Eyes
by TuttiFrutti999
Summary: Hitomi - loser ninja extraordinaire - runs away from her village to find a father she's never known. Instead, she finds a cold boy slipping away from humanity, and a secret she wishes she'd never learnt. Sasori X OC.
1. Chapter 1

**This was my first fanfic, written shortly after I realised I had a thing for red-headed puppet boys :D This is set BEFORE Naruto and the rest of the gang were born, and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Wewt.**

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Preface

…

One hot, smudgy night, two figures stood, silhouetted in moonlight. A man and a woman. She was beautiful, with brown locks that danced teasingly to her shoulder blades, and full lips, but she looked sickly, strained – and her stomach was curved into a gentle bulge. He, on the other hand, had a cat-like stance, like he meant to slink away into the night in a moments' notice. They embraced, kissed, and the man – like his posture portrayed – melted into the nearest available shadows.

A month later, three people stepped wearily into the village. The civilians cast elated looks to each other, waiting for the good news. They gathered round the returned travellers, eyes wide with anticipation. The three men cast pointed glares at each other, nudging and poking, looking very much like wrong-doing schoolboys. Finally, one stepped forward, and spoke the fatal words.

"We… lost him."

The news reached the woman – whose name was Amaya Mitarai – at the worst possible time, through nervous glances and frantic whispers.

While she was in labour.

In one stricken, heartbroken moment, Amaya sank into the deep lull of death, overcome by both grief and pain. She spared her newborn daughter not one look, not a touch.

The baby girl was held in work-roughened arms, looking up with unblinking eyes.

She was stroked briefly. The matron smiled slightly. "Call her Hitomi, and be done with it, then." And the other nurses had glanced quizzically at each other, for the baby had the dullest, plainest eyes that they had ever seen. Then they shrugged, going back to work like children were named ill-fitting names often.

Three days later, the thin, pale infant that one of the greatest ninja's of the village had borne, was tucked into a corner of the village orphanage, forgotten, waif-like, for the next fifteen years.

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**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~  
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It's odd, really how when someone says "orphanage", people think of words like "damp" "desolate" "cold" and "heartless". They think that we eat bland, shriveled food that looks like their grandmothers' petrified remains, and sleep in sagging cots with mildewed sheets.

And the strangest thing – they think we _want_ to be adopted.

Peoples' opinions always seemed weird to me. Why would we leave our home – home, not orphanage – a place where we know every corner of, to live in some bright, cold place with a shiny, new family. We've already adapted, we've already struggled, and we've found our place, thank you very much.

But then, I haven't really been considered for adoption, have I? Me, I'm plain. Pathetically plain. I have ordinary, straight brown hair that goes down to my shoulder blades and just _sits_ there – it doesn't _dance in the wind_ or _shimmer in the morning sunlight_. I'm stick-thin, and whatever I seem to do, my bones just seem to poke out. Not a pretty sight, I tell you. And my eyes are just _brown_ – not chocolate brown, not honey gold, just _brown_.

Why, in the _hell_ of it, did they name me Hitomi? Did they have a chuckle over the irony?

Me, I'm a useless ninja, and I'm not joking about it. Sure, my theory classes are great, but it's the actual missions in which I turn into the god of klutzes. I don't stun everyone with some hidden jutsu when all seems lost. I'm the one that freezes, the one that _wants_ to move, _wants_ to save the day, and fails miserably. But I still don't give up. I can't. Because my parents were the prodigies of this village, the gifted, the perfect, the unfailing. How could their own daughter fall short? I have a lot to live up to…

I don't have much going for me. I'm not popular – practically invisible. I'm not pretty. Or skilled. But, I do have something that means the world to me.

I have music.

See, in between the lumpy food and the lumpier beds, we have a rare thing in this village. We have a battered, antique set of instruments. Our matron, Keiko, my closest friend, really, has music practically spilling out of her ears. She can sing, and play the piano and the flute.

So, of course, she taught me. I've grown up with amazing tunes dancing around in my head, colourful and ethereal and heart-breaking. My most treasured possession is a rough wooden flute I was gifted on my twelfth birthday. My life revolves around the time where I can step out and lose myself in a song.

And I _know_ I sounded like an idiot then. That's what Yuki always said, anyway.

So, there I was, drifting along, dreaming, struggling through sad little missions, wondering where my father was. My mother died in childbirth – that filled me with inexplicable guilt – but I always felt like my father was still alive. He disappeared on a mission in Suna, and people searched for him for years after, but it was like he had melted into the scorching sand. I had a burning desire to go find him – but what could one klutz do that a whole village couldn't?

Then came _It_. The day when _I_ was chosen, and the moment where all of my life was torn apart at the seams and given back to me in rags.

The Nakano's. They were so happy, so optimistic, yet as soon as they stepped into the orphanage, a stifling, crushing sense of something not unlike menace choked me – _why_? They swept past the little rose- cheeked babies, past Aiko, the prettiest one in the orphanage – and stopped in front of me. A sensation fluttered in me, one that never plagued me in the orphanage before. Fear. They whispered about me, asking jovial questions, which I replied to sullenly, as my heart a moth's wing inside my chest.

I had never wondered if anyone would ever adopt me – the possibility never crossed my mind. They had always wanted the pretty ones, the clever ones, and I was the runt of the group, the one that got tossed aside. I waited, biding my time, counting the years until I could break free and search for my father. Sure I loved the orphanage – but family was family and blood was blood.

So, when Keiko pulled me aside with a small grin, I had already made my plan. I didn't feel bad keeping things from her – I knew I should, but I didn't, and the guilt at the fact that _I simply didn't care_ had faded ages ago. "Hitomi, the Nakano's have agreed to adopt you! Oh, aren't you happy?"

Agreed? When had I _asked_? Wasn't I the one cowering in a corner? But a false smile slid easily and smoothly onto my face, aided by years of practice and my compulsive lying. "Yeah! Wow, I never thought they would. When... when do I leave?" A quavering note entered my voice, and I didn't quite know why.

She smiled, thinking that I was completely and totally _ecstatic_ about the arrangement. Keiko might have been like a mother to me, but even she didn't know I was itching to _not_ be adopted. "They're picking you up tomorrow – I've talked to them, you can still visit. You will visit, won't you?"

My façade slipped for a moment. To be honest, I didn't know if I would ever see her again – would my father want to come back after so long? Then I smiled reassuringly and hugged her. "Of course I will. You know I'll never forget you, Keiko. I promise."

I tried to put all my affection and feelings into that hug, and when we pulled apart she looked at me sadly. "Ahh… I'll miss you, my little Hitomi. I'll miss making music with you. You… have a true gift. Never, ever let it go. That flute is what _defines_ you – it is your _essence_." She cast a pointed look at the instrument clutched in my left fist.

Those were the words that rang through my ears again as I slipped through the low window that night. I cast one look at the orphanage again, afraid if I kept staring my body would freeze, and I would spend the rest of my life gazing at the orphanage like a statue.

So, in all my pale, defeated, non-existent glory, I slipped through the gates of Konoha.

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**Well, this was my first attempt at fanfiction, and an epic fail it was XD But I guarantee it'll get better (well, it can't get any worse, can it?) and I hope you keep reading!**

**Reviews would be like… cookies and cream ice cream. BEYOND tasty :D**

**Oh, wait, might as well start this now… Naruto doesn't belong to me! This fanfiction, the original plotline, and any random OCs I feel compelled to chuck in, however, do!**

**Wheee!**

**Tutti**


	2. Chapter 2

**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

When massive events occur, we sometimes forget about the smaller, more irrelevant things. As strands of gold crept across the sky like iridescent snakes, my thoughts arranged themselves.

I wanted to be clueless again.

A familiar pang stole through my chest as I thought of my only friend. Well, partial friend. Yuki was an acquaintance, more like. He didn't ignore me, like most people, and he didn't whisper about me, like the other people that didn't ignore me. He could be slightly two-sided – friendly one moment and ice cold the next, but he respected music. My unstable friendship had turned into a crush god knows how, and now, against all my belief and determination, I was _missing_ him.

I literally slapped myself and opened my pack. Sighing in relief, I noticed my flute was still tucked into a sleeve. I touched it, my fingers aching to pick it up, but I scowled and snapped my bag shut. I was a ninja, not a travelling musician.

After a quick inventory, I deducted two things. One was that I had enough kunai and shuriken to probably last me war. They were kinda useless though – I had nearly beheaded a wandering chicken last time I was practicing my aim. The second was that I would probably starve to death in two days.

So, what could I do?

It was either steal, or starve. And if someone caught me, I could spin any old story and be a _poor_ little urchin… all _alone_… with no home or food or family… oh _yes, _my mother was murdered by a rogue ninja when I was four, and my father ab—oh, I could make a tragic little story out of this, couldn't I?

So under the cover of the falling shadows, I scavenged around, looking for the tiniest hint of a fire, the faintest scent of smoke. I chanced upon a few travellers, all weary, but they were guarded – there was at least one person with bright eyes and a cautious stance.

Then – I spied my chance.

Creeping, slinking through the ample foliage, I investigated the tiny clearing. Two figures lay sprawled across the floor, eyes closed. A fire flickered inside a charred circle of stones, and a thick bundle lay some feet away from them. I stretched my fingers, nearly touching the bundle, as I faltered.

Two pairs of eyes stared at me. Two big, scared, _starving_ eyes.

One of them leapt forward and snatched the bag from my fingertips, scuttling back with an unexpected agility. There was a tinkle as the contents of the sack scattered, and I saw rusted items glinting russet and silver in the moonlight. My heart gave a weird jolt as I gasped.

The children were urchins. They were thieves, rouges… and beggars. I stood there, clueless. I had seen beggars before, but from afar. The sight of their ravenous expressions nearly killed me. They were pale, pallid – and they needed food. A fiery emotion overtook me, like I _had_ to do something and nothing could stop me.

"Stay here," I whispered, trying not to unsettle them, afraid they would run like a frightened herd of gazelle **(A/N: Do they have gazelle in Japan?)** "I'm getting you some food." Why had I decided to help them, out of the blue? Why had I promised them something I most probably couldn't fulfil?

I saw their faces relax at the mention of food, and the alien sentiment grew even stronger. I knew what it was – it was responsibility. For the first time in my life, I was being entrusted with something _big_. Marking a nearby tree with a kunai – the glade was recognisable enough, and I hadn't seen a trace of a tracker nin – I smiled slightly through my own confusion, and slid away, putting every thought into moving silently, speedily, stealthily. Which was a damn lot harder than it looked, because my feet had decided long ago they go some kind of twisted pleasure by tripping over themselves.

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Every sense seemed to be fine tuned. I jumped form tree to tree, my feet barely gaining landing as I scanned around me (alright, so I stumbled. _Sue me_.), again seeking out a ribbon of scent, a glimpse of light. I looked in the unlikeliest places, where no-one would think to look – and where someone would hide. I might be terrible at fighting, but tracking and a step-into-his-shoes way of thinking were on my side.

Apparently luck was on my side too. I saw many travellers, some with lousy bush skills, some armed with so many weapons they looked like paranoid pedlars. I stayed away from those groups. No thanks, I wasn't into being speared. Nor was I any good at combat, so I'd be better off with the people stupid enough to travel alone.

I moved in a spiral, going out from the glade, tracking myself, and checking if I was _being_ tracked. Occasionally, I heard a crack, or one of the multitude or noises specifically designed to scare the life out of you. Occasionally, fear would overcome me, and I breathed in, touching my flute briefly, remembering the harrowed face of the two children.

After a while, when the sky lightened by the smallest degree, and when overwhelming, suffocating hopelessness gripped me (what if they were dead?), I heard the faint crackle of fire. Holding my breath, quenching the hope that had built slightly inside of me, I looked down into a dell, nearly impenetrable for the knotted mass of foliage surrounding it. A small fire was dancing, bringing with it the smoky, warm scent of food long-consumed. I instinctively clutched my stomach – it was possibly the stupidest, and the most looked-over way to get caught, a rumbling stomach (I should know).

A lone figure, like most of the other's I had seen tonight, lay still. He – or she – was indistinguishable by the amount of cloak wrapped around him, but one hand had escaped the choke-hold of the material, and lay protruding from the shroud.

I frowned, and softly made my way down to the base of the tree. Stick to the highs, stick to the lows – that was what I had learned in my years of futile missions and even more fruitless pantry raiding. I swallowed my growing fear, and edged my way to the nearest pack. I kept my eyes on the figure, scouting around till I was behind him, and the packs were a few feet away from me.

Easing myself around, I hastily unzipped the nearest bag. Then I froze. This was easy, too easy, _way_ _too goddamn easy_. I had never been a proficient ninja before, and this new-found agility sparked the first flames of suspicion. I went numb with fear and I turned around, and walked calmly towards the figure. I tried opening my mouth, but it stayed shut.

I wasn't controlling myself anymore.

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**Weeeellll we all know who that is! That's the thing I hate about fanfics… it's so bleeding obvious as to who the characters are!**

**Oh, I'll just mention it again, in case anyone forgot! This is set **_**before**_** Naruto's generation – in Sasori's childhood. So I'm bending a couple fact around, but I hope you can forgive me :D**

**Reviews would most probably induce some high-pitched squealing on my part :L**

**Tutti!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3 (for the small number of people reading!)**

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**RECAP:**

I went numb with fear and I turned around, and walked calmly towards the figure. I tried opening my mouth, but it stayed shut.

I wasn't controlling myself anymore.

**END RECAP STORY START:**

**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

I stood (well.. walked. "stood" isn't really the right word here) as my body, completely against my will, moved towards the cloaked figure. It was terrifying, horrifying, unreal, to try to talk and be unable to, to try to stop and be useless. My lips were sealed shut, and no matter how much I tried to tell my body to _holy shit STOP!_ It was futile. A sickening, overwhelming, suffocating sensation gripped me.

The cloaked figure was upright now, standing taller than me. This scared me. I stopped a few feet away from him, my face a perfect "o" (I had regained control of my face again) and I saw his exposed fingers move, almost lazily, almost languidly. This scared me even more. The cloaked figure, shrouded in black and moonlight, was _controlling_ me.

I broke the silence. It was unbearable, standing in utter quiet – and the one in front of me looked content to stand there until both him and I were nothing but decomposing bodies.

Too bad my first words weren't exactly… the ones I planned.

"How did you _do_ that?"

Nice. Sound like a suck up when YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!

"I don't think that's entirely relevant to your predicament."

I froze. Not that I was moving in the first place, but yeah. It was his voice that unsettled me – I expected it to be hoarse, raspy, metallic. Really, it wasn't the voice you expected from a crazed (possibly homicidal) cloaked figure you stumbled upon in the dead of night - too smooth and velvety. Somehow, I found myself thinking of the sun and the ocean.

I _hated _both the sun and the ocean.

Shaking my head slightly, I cast a pointed look at my (disobedient!) limbs. "The fact that you seem to be controlling me is ENTIRELY relevant to my freakin' predicament!"

There was no answer. Dammit, we're back to the silent treatment.

I let out a frustrated groan after a few seconds, forgetting my fear. "What the hell? Stop being so _quiet_! Please, look, I'm sorry for going through your things… but I'm not a thief, nor a beggar! Let me go!"

The cloaked figure merely twitched one finger, readjusting my right arm. I was quiet again, once more coming to grips with her quandary.

"Who… who _are_ you?"

With a rushy, papery sound, the cloak fell to the ground. I stared. No, wait, I boggled.

It was a boy. Not a sinister, hulking monster of the living dead, set on sucking out my bodily fluids. Not a weedy, knife-wielding freak either. A _boy_.

My first though was: _Oh my god, this guy is hot_.

My second? _Oh my god, I'm going to die_

He had long, red hair, slightly unkempt, but looking all the better for it. He was dressed in black, with a ragged scarf round his neck. His eyes were wide and clear and brown… and utterly, totally cold. He mightn't have been menacing, but his uncalculably cruel eyes chilled me.

That scared me more than anything.

He smirked slightly. "My name is Sasori."

Sasori… the name slithered down my mind like something posionous, something cold. I choked back my fear – I was deathly scared, I won't lie – and hung my head, my limbs suspended in a puppet's stance.

A puppets stance… puppets…

My head snapped up. "Are you from Suna?"

**~~||~~||~~ Third Person ~~||~~||~~**

Sasori quirked an eyebrow. The last question was too inquisitive, too inferential. His thoughts darted towards the Suna headband hidden in his pocket, and back to the girl in front of him. She was obviously useless, a klutz, and Sasori ached to get rid of her. He needed to leave, he needed to go _now_, and this thin girl was eating at his time. Concealing an irritated sigh, he released the chakra strings that bound her to him. She fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"Don't try to run, by the way."

She looked up now, trembling. She looked startled as Sasori's manner became business-like. "Now, tell me why you were looking around in my bag, girl."

She twitched, a little. Sasori noticed this, and stored the information away into a corner of his meticulous mind. "Look, I told you before – please, I am not a thief. I'm on my way to visit my aunt in Suna – I saw a couple of ravenous children… I couldn't leave them – there to starve!"

She looked up beseechingly into his apathetic face, and her temper flared. "Of course, you wouldn't care, _Oh puppet master_! You just stay your cold, heartless self while I try to do some good in this world!"

"You lie."

"About what? Why the hell would I spin a story about hungry kids?"

"No, that was the truth. You lied about going to Suna to visit your aunt."

"I don't think that's entirely relevant to our predicament." She smiled sarcastically. Sasori felt his lips curve into a tiny smile. He was surprised. This girl was courageous, at least. Stupid, entirely, to mess with danger, but daring enough to spit in it's face when confronted. Or were stupidity and courage the same things?

The girl collapsed again. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I did the wrong thing, but there are people out there who need food and water more than us. I'll pay you back, I promise, but right now, I've got so many issues to deal with and you're not helping!"

Sasori suddenly bent, and pulled Hitomi up. She recoiled from his touch, and backed away as soon as his fingers left her arm. Sasori threw a pack of food at her, which she caught with surprising dexterity. "Take it."

She glanced up, and smiled. Sasori remained impassive, wondering whether he should run if she tried to hug him. She was not ugly, no, but she was not beautiful either. She was plain… a shadow, one of those invisible people that the limelight seemed to passionately avoid. He relaxed slightly as she held out her hand. "Hitomi."

He stared into her dull brown eyes, and wordlessly darted away. Her fingers were left outstretched, into the black, yawning night.

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**And there we have Sasori :D I hope he wasn't too OOC XD **

**Reeeeeevieeeeeew!**

**Please?**

**Tutti**


	4. Chapter 4

**Cheers to the wonderful anonymous reviewer RED! WOO! **

**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

My limbs still felt tingly and jelly-like as I stumbled away from the children, who had snatched the food away and were currently scarfing it down like no tomorrow. A perverted feeling had twisted its way into my gut as I watched them eat – I wanted to cry. They were savages, ravenous and orphaned. I nearly gave them the food that had made my packs feel fuller. Almost. I would've scooped them both up – one was a girl, the other a boy, I could now tell – and taken them with me, but I had a mission to complete. My father had disappeared in Suna. _Disappeared_, not died. I was sure he was alive. The fierce longing in my heart was almost overpowering. I would fight to find my family, fight to prove myself, to accomplish something no-one else had done.

So obviously, I was kicking myself. What were the chances of meeting a boy from Suna so soon on my journey? And I had watched him disappear, so far my only chance to find my past.

_Sasori…_

I still remembered his clear, calculating gaze. It was unnerving, his stare – it was like my every lie, every thought had been examined and tossed aside. When trickery is you best defense, you do not want it seen through in seconds. I was almost thankful that he had departed so quickly – imagine trying to get anything out of him. Harder than convincing Keiko to make Okayu (her mother's recipe, which apparently tasted so fabulous Keiko was afraid of trying to make it, lest she failed miserably).

Opening my bags I dug around. My fingers brushed my flute once more, but the thoughts of my father were stronger.

Except I had nothing to satisfy that hunger - nothing had been salvaged, apart from a single was of my mother – sitting on a swing, just after her wedding. She was beautiful, amazingly so, and her light pink kimono matched the blush on her cheeks. A familiar pang stole through me – my mother had died during childbirth, because of me. I suppose I didn't deserve her talent, or her beauty. Life wasn't that forgiving. Life didn't even leave me with a picture of my father.

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I scowled at the rising sun, straying closer towards the shadows. I didn't know why I hated the sun, but I did. It didn't do much good. My pale skin, which failed to get a tan, would turn red. Shadows confused me. The lethargy, the energy-and-will sapping heat – what good did it do? The rain was better. Cool, quiet, pure. It concealed your blundering moves; it cleaned the air and made everything _alive_. I had always disappeared into the scrappy orphanage garden when the first cold drops hit the leaves. It was silent, still, cold – it was _mine_.

I stuck to the trees near the well worn path now, the one that tea merchants and bustling farmers plodded along. I was too shy to go up to any of the chattering, boisterous families, so I strained my ears, stalking anybody who said "Suna."

I wish I had a map. Or a magic carpet. Or a magic carpet equipped with a map.

I leapt across the treetops, my pace matched with those of the civilians ...until I realized the family I had been following for the past two hours were way ahead, and I was following the tail of a sad little plow horse. Disorientated, I picked up my pace towards the carts up ahead. I saw a flash of red, and promptly slapped myself.

The sun seemed to be getting hotter as every hour passed. I found myself wiping the perspiration from my forehead more and more often. This heat was too much – it was intense, draining, consuming. I was scared to stop – what if I lost the people I was pursuing? My limbs felt weak, my vision edged with bright pinpoints of light. My cheeks felt very, very hot, and I succumbed to the lull of the cool shadows. Gasping slightly, I splashed some precious water onto my face, soaking a few rags in it and laying it onto my own brow. Keiko had done the same when one of us was feverish.

Tiny black spots speckled my view. I was hot, confused, alone…

And I blacked out.

* * *

It was…dark. Something cold was pressed up against my lips, my head, my neck. I was on fire. Thick, hot, vermillion flames licked at my very core. My eyes wouldn't open. I parted my lips, in a futile effort to scream, but the cold hard something moved slightly, and a liquid made its way down my throat. Water. I opened my lips farther, but ended up spitting the liquid out. It tasted like _shit_. I tried opening my eyes again, succeeding this time, to see… darkness. I panicked now; my heart thudding erratically, as the cool against my brow disappeared, letting the fire claw its way up higher across my body. My breathing hitched as a thing – a hand – touched my forehead.

"Relax… it's alright… drink this."

I pressed my lips shut, only to have them forced open and the foul-tasting potion pushed down my gullet. My eyes flew open, and I registered vague, dark shapes and the night sky. "You were overcome by the heat, I suppose. It was mild sunstroke, nothing to worry about, though you were severely dehydrated. How much water have you had today? Good thing that young man found you – you had collapsed, and nearly fallen off a tree. What were you doing up there anyway?"

I pushed words past my lips. My voice was a croak, a whisper. "Young man? Yuki?"

Yuki? Geez, I _must_ have been dazed.

Obviously, the old man (I could make out people now) thought so too. "Yuki? No, no, it was someone else. Sasori, he said. Most impatient. Though I suppose he isn't too much of a bad fellow – many other people would have walked right past you, girl, so count yourself lucky. He was set on getting on his way as soon as possible – he left not five minutes ago. Said he was going to Suna, nothing more. Ah, I guess he's from there, what with his puppets."

The wizened man in front of me spoke in short, sharp sentences, each one punctuated with a nasal sigh and a full stop. Suddenly my senses were alert. Sasori. Again? First he gives me food, now saves me? Bah, pretty soon he's going to have an ego the size of Konoha. I registered the man's wandering comments slightly, as I struggled to pick myself up, collapsing each time. His hand shot out but I shrugged it off with some effort.

"Please, sir, tell me which way he went. I need to find him!"

The gnarled person shook his head, adamant. "You aren't going anywhere, until I make sure you're healthy. Lie back down before you overexert yourself."

I managed to walk a few wobbly steps. "Look, I'm fine. This is serious – please tell me which way he went. Atleast I have a chance of catching up to him if I leave now. Else I'll just blunder around in the forest, and all the effort you put in to save me will be useless."

The man sighed. "Look, child, you will not do either. Sit down and drink something."

"But -!"

"I suggest you listen to him, Hitomi."

Oh _shit._

I turned around, facing Sasori. Duh. Who else had a voice that reminded me of the sun I so despised? "But – I – why – why are you here?"

Sasori raised an eyebrow, his face otherwise expressionless. "Again with the insufferable questions. Shouldn't you be thanking me for saving your sorry little self? I merely came back to check on you – wouldn't want my hard work to go to waste, would I? You're heavy for someone so near anorexic."

I blushed slightly, feeling embarrassed. Then my mouth opened again. "Well then, why didn't you use your amazing puppet magic to drag me here? Actually, why didn't you just leave me? You were certainly keen on doing just that a few hours ago."

Sasori smirked. "It is not magic I use. Puppeteering is an art. Though you probably cannot understand it."

My hands clenched into fists. "Don't talk to me about art, Sasori."

He looked at me hard and long. Then, suddenly, he turned his face towards the old man. "Ryu, I don't think there's much point in making her move. She needs rest, and I must be going, so please make sure she doesn't come running after me. I don't want to carry her all the way back here," he spoke, his voice smoothing to a honey-and-amber tone, as he produced a coin from his pocket. I ogled. "Please, take this from me on Hitomi's behalf, to pay for the herbs."

Flicking the coin in the air, he turned and was halfway across the clearing before I stopped ogling. "Wait – wait! I know you're going to Suna!"

He paused. "And?"

I was at a loss then. And what? "Can you tell me how to get there?"

He cocked his head to the side, not looking at me. "Hmmm… no."

"Why not? Please? I need help!"

"Haven't I already helped you enough, Hitomi?"

"I didn't ask for it!"

"Ungrateful, much?"

I stopped. Dammit, he was right. I blushed a little deeper now – enter Tomato Girl. "Okay… I guess you're right. I am ungrateful. But please, I need to get to Suna. It's… it's the only thing I have, I guess."

He smirked again. "What, your aunt?"

I grinded my teeth. This boy seemed to know exactly which buttons to push to make me explode. "Not my aunt… but another family member. I'm looking for my father." It pained me to tell the truth.

I looked into his unblinking eyes. His face was expressionless (big woop), and I gritted my teeth. I had staked it on the truth - wasted it on a person that couldn't feel.

I was pathetic. Somehow, in front of him, my charades all melted away, leaving the naked truth hanging precariously in front of him.

"Very well. I'll take you to Suna. But after that, we part ways. I'm not going to be there to save you any more."

He's TAKING me to Suna? I was hoping for a map and directions! Oh god… a day, maybe more, stuck with Sasori… my nightmares were coming true. I imagined trying to initiate a conversation with him. Nothing came up.

"W-wait! You…"

He quirked a perfect eyebrow again. My voice died in my throat. "Nothing…"

"Very well." He cast Ryu a glance. "Sir, thank you for your help. I'm capable of taking care of her, now that you've done such a fine job of healing her. We'll be leaving now."

He glanced at me, signaling that I should pick up my pack and arse and follow him. Scooping up my belongings, leaving Ryu (who I really felt sorry for now) speechless, I touched my flute for comfort and trailed behind Sasori.

I hated sunstroke. I was stuck with the Puppet Boy now. Stupid, stupid sunstroke.

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**Nothing much to say here - just that reviews would be loved! Please?**

** Tutti**


	5. Chapter 5

**THANK YOU so much Red, SweetScarlett97 and PeroPeroCandy for reviews! **

**This is a super short chap, so I'm putting the next one up straight away :D**

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**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

I really hated my feet right now. And my head. And – oh, actually, I wanted to curse my whole body to the deepest corner of hell. Why weren't we born with wings? Or jet-propellers? Because really, if I went any further, I would scream. My head still hurt like crazy, my chakra control was even worse than usual, and my body was shaking like a leaf in a storm. The only encouragement I received from Sasori was "You're slow."

"Hurry up. You're wasting my time, Hitomi."

Bah, there he goes again. I ground my teeth together and fought the pain. "You're the one that agreed to take me along, deal with it."

"You're the one who asked in the first place."

"God, Sasori, what the hell? You know what, just leave me. Shoo. Go on ahead. I'm stopping you from whatever 'art' you have to complete." And to prove my point, I planted my bottom on the ground. My feet throbbed. I leaned back against a nearby tree, gulping water, marveling at how the coolness soothed my burning throat. Sasori came over and pulled me up. I groaned and sat back down as soon as he let go. A smirk laced his lips.

"Very well then. If you want me to control you again."

"I know empty threats when I hear them, boy."

"Then you need to get your hearing checked."

I was pulled up again, though this time with invisible strings. Sasori's finger moved lazily again, pulling me along as my limbs and face snapped against the foliage. I spat out mouthfuls of leaves. "Ugh! Stop it, Sasori! I do not want leaves for breakfast! Why are you bothering so much? Why can't you just leave me?" My voice died down to a whisper. I knew he had some ulterior motive – people had never bothered to stick with me for this long. Actually no one had stuck with me at all. The idea of Sasori, cold, motivated Sasori, to take the trouble to come back for me again, was incomprehensible.

felt Sasori's control over me snap, and I waited for the ground to meet my face, as it had last time. Except, it didn't. I stayed upright, my body arranged in a sitting manner. I looked up, surprised. Sasori had turned around, and was walking away. "Hurry up then," he threw carelessly over his shoulder. "As for bothering with you, I simply dislike leaving jobs half-done. There is no sentimental attachment, if that is what you are thinking."

I fought to keep a blush from my cheeks. He thought I thought he LIKED me? What a freak! "Arrogant, egotistical jackass." I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that."

"I hope you did. Here, I'll say it again. Arrogant, egotistical jackass."

* * *

**_Some time later…_**

"Wow."

This was Suna. We were on a dune overlooking the city, and I momentarily forgot about the sand stinging my eyes. Shimmering, silvery waves of heat emanated from the city. As we got closer, strange, exotic scents wafted over the air towards my nose. The bustle, the denseness coloured the air with a flamboyant, foreign flavour. I could feel the voices, the excitement pushing at my skin. Market stalls lined the wide alleys, flagstoned roads bumpy against my shoes. It was more crowded here – but not suffocatingly so. I felt exhilaration buzzing inside me – I was free, I was close. I turned to Sasori, who was currently staring back out at the desert. Rolling my eyes I forced his gaze towards the city. "We just came from there! Come on – you're home! Aren't you happy?"

He stared at me blankly. My happiness flared down a bit. "Well, okay, I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for everything… even though you are a conceited prig." I added. He nodded slightly – then smirked. I was instantly alert.

"Who died?"

"What?"

"No, just that whenever you smirk like that, somebody else is either in pain or dying."

"Hmm.. I'm just wondering how long you can survive without food."

I smiled at him. I wasn't that lost – I had a plan to get an income. "Oh, it's alright… I have my ways to get food…"

"I don't think you make a very good thief."

"Stealing? No… I was thinking more along the lines of _art_.

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***random whistling***

**Nothing much to say here, really. Please review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A slightly longer chapter :D**

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**~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

I raised the flute to my lips, wishing that my palms weren't so sweaty. Or my arms didn't feel like they had been sat on. My cheeks returning to their ordinary colour would've helped too. All-consuming nerves encased me in a bubble of fear. People walking by cast me curious glances, some sympathetic. I hated sympathetic looks, having gotten them all my life. I wanted people to see me, not an orphan, or a scared flautist. I breathed, correcting my position, and blew in.

And died.

The first sour note hit the air in an ear-shattering display. It sounded unlike anything I had ever played before – even my first ever try on a flute had been better. It had been soundless.

"Crap." I whispered as people around glared at me. More sympathetic looks. I ground my teeth in exasperation, embarrassment, hopelessness. Orphan girl all over again. Blinking away a few tears that dared lace my eyes, I cleared my mind, blocked out the sounds. It still didn't stop the next few words. Somehow they were all the more painful.

"Wonderful 'art', Hitomi. I'm going now."

_I'm untouchable, untouchable, don't talk back, just focus, don't retaliate_ –

"Thanks. Please do – it's hard to concentrate with your giant ego polluting the airspace."

The joys of retaliation.

A few strands of cheerfulness blossomed in me, only to wither

as Sasori's next words.

"Because your pathetic musical talent doesn't? Face it, Hitomi. You're hopeless. You'll never be a flautist – I doubt you'll even find your father, so please give up. Your wasting my time and yours. Music is a feeble form of art – it's fleeting, transient, pathetic."

Homesickness washed through me. Along with anger, pain… and humiliation. I clenched my teeth angrily, though it didn't stop a tiny sob of despair squeezing through. I prayed Sasori didn't hear it – the last thing I wanted him to know was that he had gotten to me.

They had always been like that. Scornful, pessimistic, mocking. They had laughed when they heard my music.

_"A musical ninja? That's new."_

_"Ninja? She's a failure – dropped out of the chunin exams four times, she couldn't cope with the battles."_

_"Well, she'll at least have some sad hobby to go on with – she's bound to fail again… why does she try?"_

Why did I try? People thought it was just my stubbornness – to me it was a way to let my family live on. The weight of responsibility drove me on, the memories of my parents encouraged me. I didn't know why, but there was an unyielding force in me that compelled me to continue. I had to it or bust. They thought I was pathetic. I was going to prove them wrong.

Burning holes into Sasori's back, I watched him make his way down the high, cobbled alley, and summoned up a picture of Keiko into my head. Washing out my anger towards Sasori, I zoned out, lifting up the flute once more.

It worked.

Without any specific thought, my fingers started a familiar pattern. Trailing up and down the well-worn length, they played out my favourite melody. It had no name- I could not give it one, but the twisting, fluttering tune had wrapped it's way around my heart in inescapable ways. It reminded me of emerald woods, picturesque valleys, the rivers rushing beneath. It conjured images of places I had never seen before – moonlit glades, fields of long, golden grass. It brought a sense of nostalgia, the urge to cry.

As the tune reached it's crescendo, the first coins hit my lap. I looked up, eyes round, still playing, at the small group of people standing there. A girl, maybe twelve, smiled shyly. An old woman beamed. A little family – mother, father, two sons – grinned and clapped. My heart swelled. I was amazed, disbelieving – and proud. It was an entirely new feeling. Sure, I had been proud of myself – pleased when I mastered a tune, happy when I saw the first green pea-shoots – but right now, I felt truly happy. Happy that I was making other people happy. Suddenly, I felt at peace with the world, like I had it exactly as I wanted, like everything belonged. For one glorious moment, I was ecstatic, amazed –

And then I saw Sasori.

My fingers stopped working promptly. The little group gathered around me had suddenly melted into the crowd. I collected my few coins as inconspicuously as possible, keeping my eyes averted from his figure. A faint red tinge coloured my cheeks.

But why the HELL was I embarrassed? People had LIKED my music – and I had nothing to be ashamed of. I half-convinced myself that he had come back to apologize, and looked up into his (BIG surprise) smirk. I arched an eyebrow expectantly, wishing that my clothes didn't look quite so shabby when compared to his.

"Yes, puppeteer?"

"You're still here?"

"No. I'm halfway to China."

"That was a rhetorical question."

"And that was a sarcastic answer."

Dot dot dot. Silence.

"That is your art." It wasn't a question – it had no inflexion, no sardonic tinge. I was getting irritated now – his face was blank, but I could practically hear the whirring of his brain.

"Yep. Got a problem with it? If you do, get the hell away from me because frankly, I am SICK of your insults. You must have incredibly low self-esteem, if you need to degrade everyone all the time, or do you simply lower peoples' moral with your mere presence?"

"Hm."

"Look around, you acrimonious jerk. Have you realized that no-one dares to step within three-feet of you? Everyone in this freakin' town is terrified. I wonder how your family reacts to you."

I breathed hard, watching Sasori's emotionless face. Turning my back to him, I regained my composure and resumed playing. The sound did nothing to drown out Sasori's next words, nor the pain that followed. I knew I had crossed an agonizing, unmentionable line.

"Guess I'll never find out."

In a heartbeat, using the instinct of the unloved, I knew. Sasori didn't have parents.

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**I severely disliked this chapter. And the one after this, but of course, you haven't seen it yet :D**

**XD Review? Please? It would be BEYOND phenomenal.**

**Tutti**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm UPDATING AGAIN! Woo (not really)! ENORMOUS, OVERWEIGHT thanks to _BravoMonAmi, Kuro neko dattebayo, Cy5000 _and_ Mirai Reko_ for reviewing!**

**P.S. This story is set BEFORE Sasori goes all beserko, runs away and turns into a puppet :D**

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**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

See, I could write an epic (complete with autobiography and credits) on how I felt, but seeing as I can't write to save my life, I'll sum it up in as few words as possible.

_Shit._

I mean, yeah, sure, Sasori was a mean, cruel, arrogant, heartless, selfish JERK, but what I said was beyond mean. So now, swallowing my dismal amount of pride (and a chunk of bread I bought) I started Mission Find-Sasori-Apologize-Then-Get-The-Hell-Away. (hereby known as FSATGTHA)

...That would have to wait.

A girl made her was over to me. I blanched, shyness throttling me (I'm CHOKING! CHOKING I TELL YOU!) as she grinned and waved, like I was some life-long friend. She was VERY pretty – unfairly so. Kind of like the evil enchantresses that always appeared in folk tales. She had long black hair (shiny to the point of varnished), huge, sparkly grey eyes, perfect figure - in short, she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I couldn't help but notice the way people looked at her – like she was a pagan goddess sent from above. The first seeds of jealousy planted themselves in my heart, but were lost under the veritable jungle of shyness and embarrassment. I felt a blush (oh the stupidity of blushing) creep ever-so-conspicuously up my cheeks as she grinned and waved at me like I was some long-lost friend. Well, there goes my chance of running away.

"Hey! I'm Amaya! I heard you playing back then… you're really good!" She called out, her voice lilting.

"Thanks." I muttered, trying to hide my face with my hair.

"Ha, you're pretty shy for someone brave enough to perform in front of people. What's you name?"

"Hitomi." This time I tried to hide my eyes as well. I didn't need Miss Pagan Goddess finding out I was possibly the most ironically named person on this planet.

"So you're from Konoha?"

I was shocked enough to look at her properly. I instantly regretted it – her smile was enough to give me an inferiority complex. "How – how do you know I'm from Konoha?" I stumbled, sounding retarded. She flashed another award-winning grin.

"Your headband's sticking out of your pack.* Don't worry, I'm not reporting you – I doubt a ninja on a mission would attract attention busking."

I nodded. Stupid, stupid headbands.

"Well, Miss. One-Worded Hitomi, come on! I've got to show my new prize to the gang!" (A/N: Yes, I committed suicide after writing that sentence)

One-Worded? Funny, from anyone else that would have been the LAMEST thing ever, but from her...

"What prize?"

"Oooh. She SPEAKS! _You_, silly. We only have one flautist right now… you're desperately wanted. So you in?"

I stood up. Guess I was in then. Following her was probably the biggest mistake of my life. Too bad I didn't have some Kekkei Genkai to see into the future.

* * *

"The Gang" turned out to be a bunch of teens, some scruffy, some polished, accessorized with assorted instruments and an air that said "Yes, yes I know I'm loved." I think I shrunk three inches just then. They were obviously waiting for someone (*kofAMAYAkof*), because they jumped up like hyperactive ferrets as soon as we stepped into the courtyard.

"Amaya-chan!"

"Heyyyyyy Amaya!"

"Hey! Who's the new girl?" Great. I was noticed.

Amaya grinned indulgently. "This, my dears, is flautist extraodanaire – Hitomi!"

Great. I was now a flautist extraodanaire.

"Hey Hitomi. I'm Kin." Nodded one slightly dopey-looking, extremely GOOD-looking boy. I blushed and nodded.

"I'm MEI! COOL! You play flute TOO?" Said one girl who used way to many capital letters.

"Kyoko."

"Mamoru."

"Hisoka! Play something!"

Crap. The requests had started. "U-um, sorry… I- I can't… I'm looking for two people… it's r-really, really important."

That immediately got their interest. "Who you looking for?" asked Kin.

"I'm l-looking for my father. H-he disappeared 15 years ago… in this village. I've always wanted to look for him, and now I got my chance. I-I know it sounds stupid… but I have to try, d-don't I?" I beseeched. _Why did their opinion matter so much_? I looked into their faces, still nervous, but curious at the same time.

Amaya spoke first. "Guess family is family. You have to try. Got any ideas, anyone?"

Kyoko frowned. "Hmmm… oh! I know! How about Chiyo-baa-sama? She's so old… and she seems to keep tabs on everyone, dead or alive. Everyone knows her.. ask around."

Hisoka made a face. "What? Chiyo? Are you SERIOUS? She's creeps the hell out of me – her and her grandson!"

"Don't you dare insult 'her grandson'!" Mei coloured.

"Stupid fangirls…" muttered Mamoru to me. I looked at him properly for the first time – he was so beautiful it hurt my eyes.

"Heard that, Momo!"

"Don't call me Momo!"

"Auuwww, why not, MOMO-KUN?"

Amaya spoke up again, laughing. "Shut up, all of you! Hitomi, trust me, when you see Chiyo, you'll know. By the way, who's the second person you're stalking?"

I blushed at the word 'stalking'. It REALLY didn't help that Sasori was cute.

Kyoko noticed me blushing. "OOOOOH! Is it a GUY?"

THAT caught me of guard. "What, NO! Wait… I mean.. yeah it is. But seriously, it's not what you think!"

"Name?" Mei quizzed, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. (Not. Helping!)

"Sasori." I winced.

A deathly silence fell over the group. Any hopes I had of making a good impression were blown away by a tornado of "oh SHIT what did I do?"

Mamoru was the first to speak. "Sasori? You too?"

Kyoko glared. "What, are you after the whole family? First Chiyo-baa-sama, now Sasori-kun?"

Sasori-KUN? Uh oh. I think I just figured out who "the grandson" was…

"Guys, shut it already. She's new… it's not like she knows anything." That was Amaya.

Hisoka was red. "She could have been a little more considerate…" he flashed a glance at Amaya, who had gone slightly misty-eyed. I cleared my throat.

"D-did I say something?"

"Nope!" Amaya grinned, popping the 'p'. "Don't worry, my friends are just a little over-dramatic. We can't really help you with Sasori – he's a bit of a wanderer, and secretive to the extreme… Chiyo's his grandma, if you haven't figured yet… why don't you ask her?"

Looking into her face just then, I had the feeling that I was missing out on something BIG.

* * *

**Argh. *shoots self***

**Review, please?**

**XX Tutti**


	8. Chapter 8

**:D Massive thanks to Mirai Reiko for the entertaining-as-hell messages XD **

**Enjoy the (filler!) chapter :D**

* * *

**~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~**

"U-umm… do you know…um… where I can find… um… Chiyo-baa-sama?"

"Well, _um_, if you go, _um_, left, then right, then _um_, then down the little alleyway, _um_, then –"

"I really don't have time for mockery."

"Oho! So you can speak properly! Here, girl, go left, you'll see a little path, keep following it until you see a house the size of my magnificent shop. You know, I sell 35 kilos of cabbage–" He gestured, waving his arms at the stall behind him. I rolled my eyes – pompous people make me laugh.

_A house the size of your stomach, more like_, I thought, staring at the rotund man. One of his dinners could have fed the orphanage for a week. But smoothing my face into a mask of inscrutability; I smiled, bowed, and walked down the path mentioned. Ooh how I would have killed to see his expression – I knew I had cut him off in his daily eulogy.

Sometimes, my own mood swings scared me. How could I be so scared one second, yet walk away composed the next?

* * *

Ha, scratch that last sentence.

After wandering around, hunting the elusive alley that would prove my 'shortcut' to Chiyo's that seemed to be bleeding INVISIBLE, I was left staring at a house that practically vomited magnificence. It was a typical compound, but larger and grander than any I had seen before. White, airy and emanating meticulous cleanliness even in the dusty, arid atmosphere, I felt dirtier and more insignificant than ever before – this house had the same effect as Sasori himself did. No wonder this was his home.

I was no longer unperturbed.I shifted my black, baggy, capris around – they were laced in a sheen of dust now, after traveling for 4 and a half days. I pulled them up – they had been a hand-me-down from the orphanage, and hung limp around my thin waist. I wore a green tank top, also caked in grime, which had been a hand-me-up, and was now too tight, riding up to expose my flat, white stomach when I wasn't paying attention. My mouse brown hair swept into a high ponytail, clothes refusing to be cleaned, face splashed with water, I breathed deeply, stepping onto the immaculate grounds.

Oh, yes, I was no longer unperturbed.

Servants and various visitors flouncing around, in robes as spotless as the rest of the place. The guards had let me in reluctantly, after making sure I wasn't option a) _a lunatic_ or option b) _armed with kunai and a variety of other instruments of death_. I meandered for about half an hour, trying to look like knowledgeable, my pride and shyness preventing me from asking for help.

"Can I help you?"

A girl in a plain pink yukata and white oboi looked down a pointed nose at me. I blushed instantly, only to remember to stay calm. The pink faded from my cheeks instantly, and I drew myself higher, feigning a haughty air.

"Yes. I am Hitomi Mitarai, daughter of Hao and Amaya, sole heir to the Mitarai fortune and estate, coming to speak to Elder Chiyo," I rambled on, fingers lifting imperiously, the words spilling from my mouth with no meaning whatsoever. For there was no 'Mitarai fortune and estate'. Hopefully this girl didn't know.

"Then why exactly are you dressed like that?"

I cocked one eyebrow at her. "I've been traveling for 4 days in disguise, after some rogue ninja threatened my guard and I. Now you dare refuse me admittance, after my perilous journey?" I raised my pitch dramatically, a hand on my hip, trying desperately to pull off the whole _'I'm a spoiled brat!_' act. Pink Yukata Chick looked a little scared, scuttling off, beckoning for me to follow.

Things moved surprisingly quickly after that little performance. I was shown to her door immediately – obviously this girl wasn't exactly... a genius – and pushed inside. I abandoned my façade as soon as I lay eyes on Chiyo.

My first impression was of oldness. Gray, lank hair framed a face pitted with wrinkles. Long, pale robes covered a stocky figure. I looked for a sign of Sasori in her – a fruitless search.

Until I saw her eyes. Oh, yes, they were an older, duller version of Sasori. Not as wide, clear, or beautiful - _beautiful?_, but gleaming with the same deception, the shrewdness. This woman could see through lies, indeed.

"And who are you?" She asked, mildly interested, though her face was composed. I took a deep breath, my shyness returning in all its unwanted glory.

"Um… ah… err… My name is umm… uhh…"

With each stuttering pause, Chiyo's eyebrow traveled higher up her forehead. My timidity increased as the grey eyebrow trekked up, degree by degree.

It was like a grey worm, the eyebrow. A hairy one. A caterpillar? No. A noodle. A noodle crawling up her forehead?

Wait, no, noodles weren't fuzzy.

And I started laughing.

Oh yes, I could feel the sane part of me looking on with horror. My god, it _wasn't even funny_. My nerves had gone overboard.

Waves of amusement and horror rolled off me simultaneously. Spluttering, I could feel my cheeks going red, tears of mirth traced silver snail-tracks down my cheeks. Out of my crinkled, tear-blinded eyes, I saw Chiyo smirking slightly, tapping her fingers on her knee. The habit was so much like one Sasori would wear, I shut up immediately. She smirked a little wider, probably because of my split-personality temperament. That old woman had the power to burn me until I was nothing but an eyeball, just with her look.

Note to self: Never, EVER, laugh in front of Sasori's family. They'll kill you when you sleep.

"Well, are you finished yet? May I ask what was so amusing?" She said pleasantly. Her eyes softened a little, or was that a trick of the light?

"S-sorry, Chiyo-baa-sama, it's just that you looked SO much like your grandson…" I lied, feeling a little pleased with my quick thinking. I really don't think telling her that her eyebrows sent me into hysterics would have helped.

Apparently, Chiyo was one those people who ALWAYS saw the negative. Though this time, I couldn't blame her – poor thing, having a personality like Sasori in the house.

Her eyes grew flint-hard. "Ah, and here I was thinking you would be different from the inflated officials and even more irritating girls I must see every day. Is that why you've come here, to bother my grandson? Frankly, I am sick of all of you girls. Do you have no hobby whatsoever, other than infuriating people who clearly aren't interested in your advances?"

Ah. So here was the 'fangirl' thing again. It was a recurring theme, wasn't it, first with Amaya's gang, now with Chiyo?

"Oh, no, seriously, Chiyo-baa-sama! I swear, it is NOTHING like that. Sasori just helped me a lot on my way to Suna, and I was unrightfully mean to him, I need to apologize, or else it'll be hanging on my conscience for the next 5 months. Really, I just need to talk to him."

Chiyo sniffed disdainfully. This was not her earlier manner. She was all teeth, nails and disdainful sniffs when it came to the topic of Sasori's supposed love-life. "Girls, they're all the same… whether from Suna or Konoha… need to 'talk' to him…"

I coloured. "Elder Chiyo! Please! I don't give a damn if Sasori has two girlfriends or two hundred! Actually, I don't even care if he's_ impotent_! I'm just trying to do something right for the first time in my life and really, you're not helping. I said something horrible to him… but I'm in the same predicament myself. It hurts a lot more, you know, if you really are one."

"Are what?"

"An orphan." I whispered.

Chiyo was silent. I was partly grateful for this, and partly annoyed, because I spent the next five minutes staring at my knees, wondering if I could look up.

"I'm not sure myself… but you may be able to find him on the roof."

"What roof?"

"I'm not sure myself. Sasori's so secretive… he just calls it "the roof". I really can't tell you much more, other than it's most probably up high somewhere… he likes to look at the sunset…"

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else you need to know?"

"Yes… have you heard of, or even seen, a man called Hao Mitarai? My father. He disappeared in Suna fifteen years ago, and I'm trying to find him, or learn of what happened to him." Funny how I nearly forgot that. Funny how it came second to a mere boy.

"Hao… Mitarai…? Hmmm… I cannot remember anything right now, but I promise you I will look in on the matter. Where are you staying?"

"Thank you. Um, I…. I haven't found a place yet. Sorry."

"No matter. Contact me when you do."

"I will. Thanks so much! It really means a lot to me, it truly does."

She nodded absentmindedly, waving her fingers towards the door. I scuttled out of the rooms as fast as possible – boy, that woman scared the SHIT out of me!

But before leaving, I had one more question…

"How did you know I'm from Konoha?"

"Your headband's sticking out of your pack."

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** Filler Chapters FTW!**

**Review?**

**Tutti^^**


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